Operation: M
by BattleJoy W
Summary: Red herrings galor at Central City's 'Perky Fisherman Mackerel Canning Plant and Warehouse'. Ed is not pleased with a certain Colonel. Update:122 New Chapter in which Ed spazzes some more.
1. Everything falling into place

_**Operation: "M"**_  
  
by BattleJoy W  
  
Disclaimer: I write fanfiction. I know exactly how much is mine and how much is the creators. I hope you do too.

UPDATE: 8-19 Noticed something the other week while catching up on the manga, Central City is nowhere near a sea. Thus my fic is off! So I updated merely to switch things to a river setting since most major cities have a nice convenient river/source of water. Also to make some minor grammatical changes that bothered me.

* * *

Edward Elric stared dazedly at the intensifying glow of the windows of the old warehouse on the corner of the wharf. The scent of burnt feathers, fish, cloth, and oranges did not mix well. It was a good thing that it was on the end of the block. The only other nearby structure was a military owned uniform depot so there was no civilian casualties and Ed didn't think the fire would spread.  
  
But there weren't any bad guys left either. They had hightailed it when that box of oranges exploded. Ed would really have to remember that citric acid is much more flammable than he had heard so he should never transmute them any more.  
  
_'Operation: M'_ was crap, pure and simple, in Ed's humble opinion.  
  
He wasn't expecting this fiasco when he was given his orders yesterday. Roy just pulled out a terse, typed sheet of paper from a folder marked _'Operation: M'_ and placed it before him. "This is what we know and the address where you are to go. Get us some evidence and report back. You have until the day after tomorrow. We think the suspects are about to move."  
  
Which was the reason Ed was standing there in broad daylight in front of the condemned 'Perky Fisherman Mackerel Canning Plant and Warehouse'. Ed never met a perky fisherman and doubted they existed. He, sure as heck, wasn't feeling perky.

He also was wondering why someone would put a sea-fish packing plant this far upriver. But the _'M'_ in _'Operation: M'_ obviously meant mackerel. What a stupid name for a mission. Didn't Roy have any imagination?  
  
"Big Brother, help me!" Al cried, as he ran away from the huge, foreign bird trying to peck off his loincloth. Sure, the creature pecking the knots tying them loose was kinda the way they both escaped the gangsters but why anyone would accidentally deliver a crate with an ostrich in it to a condemned mackerel factory was completely beyond Ed.  
  
Ed wished he never was assigned this mission. There had been no hints of any connections to the Philosopher's Stone, Scar, or biological transmutation. Ed couldn't see why the Colonel Roy 'I'm a manipulative bastard and your commanding officer' Mustang would assign this to him when the original mission sounded like it should fall into to the non-military police. A smuggling operation in Central City involving bootlegged merchandise involving some comic character called _'Happy-time Kitty!'_ just did not sound like it fell under the jurisdiction of the military. Sure, Al was tickled pink by finally getting an orange tabby to complete his collection, but Ed was tired of being a stupid errand-boy. Roy had other people in his office. Why hadn't he sent them?  
  
The mission did pick up a bit when they discovered that the bootleg Happy- time Kitty dolls was a front for the real smuggling of illegal automail. Normal automail was open to the public but certain pieces with firearms built in were strictly controlled. And some of more impressive examples of these 'arms' (HA! Terrible pun!) would make the most stupid yet well connected street punk nearly as dangerous as even Hawkeye.

* * *

We are taking a brief moment for this FMA public service announcement:  
  
"Hello, I am First Lieutenant Liza Hawkeye," Hawkeye sternly addressed the audience. "Remember, for the public safety, we don't need stricter gun regulations. We need stricter enforcement of existing gun laws and stiffer penalties for offenders. Thank you."

* * *

Of course, when you get involved with big time smuggling you get involved with big time gangsters, thus the resulting difficulty with the situation. Ed just couldn't shake the feeling that them showing up exactly at same time as him and his brother was more than coincidence.  
  
And there were still no explanations on why an abandoned Mackerel factory had mothballs, bales of twine, spicy wasabi, trash compactors, transmition fluid, towels, azaleas, and, well, a whole bunch of random crap that Ed knew didn't belong in a canning factory. It was if someone amassed a whole convenient pile of crap that an alchemist could happen by and possibly transmute to save his rear from evil gangsters. There was even a box of lacy women's brassieres which Ed suspected were left there just to embarrass him.  
  
"Big Brother! Help me!"  
  
"Al, it's a bird. You're pure metal and 200lbs heavier than him," Edward ignored the pleas for assistance from his brother, who he was confident, could handle the avian situation, and proceeded to look around. He needed to put out the flames fast before they destroyed the evidence. Maybe he should transmute a water pump from the river to the factory, but where to get the materials?  
  
If he went before Roy without even some illegal arms or at the very least that whole box of limited edition Siamese Happy-time Kitties, Roy would have his rear in a sling. An ambitious officer needed an occasional successful bust or campaign to advance quickly. 

Ed gritted his teeth imagining the cover of the newspaper with a smiling Roy shaking some big-shot's hand. Ed's shoulder and a couple strands of his wayward bangs in the left-hand corner was all that was left after the photographer cropped him out. Ed wasn't a glory hog but he resented being a stepping stone in Roy's career path.  
  
It was then that a sudden blast rocked the area.  
  
"Al! Get down!" Ed yelled, flattening himself against the wharf's floor, fearful of shrapnel. Al quickly obeyed. Even the ostrich did. Loud and thunderous, the flames must have gotten to some munitions and they resulting blast could be heard two miles away.  
  
Ed decided that he would never tell Winry the details of this night. She would burst into tears at the thought of all that advanced automail being blown apart or slowly melted.  
  
So much for the evidence he needed.  
  
Ed didn't think his idea of a water pump would be too effective to the fire now but he had to try it. The fire was escalating and spreading to building next to it. He didn't want the whole wharf engulfed by a fire that would be blamed on him.  
  
"Al, maybe if both of us make hoses and pumps out of those boxes full of-," Ed blinked and continued, thoroughly irritated. "Strangely, convenient rubber duckies that are perfect for transmuting into water-hoses, and brand new metal mailboxes for the fittings, standing out on the wharf and... are those sirens?"  
  
Ed turned his head to see the whole contingent of firefighters in the city advance toward them.  
  
But that didn't make any sense! The blasts just started a couple seconds before. They couldn't have gotten there in that amount of time. They must have gotten an advanced call.

* * *

Back at the office...  
  
"Fullmetal, excellent report. I'm glad you took my advice and let someone proofread it first. That or your grammar is improving. I believe you have some leave time accumulated. Go ahead and take it. Dismissed."  
  
"Huh?," was Ed's intelligent reply. Roy just accepted the report, even complimented him, and told him to take a vacation? Was there a school somewhere specializing in making Colonels extra frustrating? "Wait a second, I have some questions."  
  
Roy ignored him and called out for his second in command over the intercom. "First Lieutenant. Hawkeye? Could you please come in here?"  
  
"Yes, sir?" She quickly answered the office door.  
  
"Take Fullmetal and have him put on a train to his hometown. I think he's earned himself some rest time." Hawkeye took Ed's shoulder and gently forced him out of the room.  
  
Ed turned back even as he was dragged out of the room. The whole mission was ludicrous! Roy had to have an ulterior motive for sending him out there. "You owe me some answers! Why did you really send me out there? Did you hold back information from me about the gangsters? And what who the hell stores rubber duckies and mailboxes in plain site on a wharf?! Did you give me real orders or just threw me into the middle of a crappy, scavenger hunt!?"  
  
Roy seemed nonplussed as his interlaced gloved fingers supported his chin. A faint smile graced his lips.  
  
"I'll get to the bottom of this so help me I will!" Ed's distant vow of vengeance sounded but Roy Mustang paid him no heed. Ed would cool down eventually. A few minutes later, Roy calmly called Sgt. Major Fury inside his office.  
  
"Did you finish your report of Fullmetal's last mission?" Roy stretched in his seat and then stood up. He turned to look out his office window at the small yet recognizable boy with gold hair, who stood with his grey, armored brother. Roy was very amused at the sight of Ed shaking his fist at him before stomping home to pack.  
  
"Yes sir. All contents of the factory were destroyed. The smoldering remains were still too hot to dig through the debris but we don't think that anything we could use in a trial-," Fury began but Roy waved for him to stop.  
  
"Any damages outside the Mackerel plant?"  
  
"The next door Uniform Depot's west wing burnt completely to the ground. Luckily, the fire department came in time to save the east but-"  
  
"That's enough, Fury. You are dismissed."  
  
"But sir, that's it?"  
  
"Yes. Leave it on my desk. You are dismissed."  
  
"But, sir?" Fury questioned, tears pooling in his eyes. This couldn't be it. Roy had called him at home moments before he was going to go out the door with that cute red-headed girl in Intelligence. It took him three months to get the courage up to ask her out and he had to cancel so he could spend the whole night getting statements and typing up that very report.  
  
"Dismissed." Roy turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "Do you want me to call for Lieutenant Hawkeye?"  
  
"No, sir." Fury hesitantly said as he backed out of the office disconcerted. He went to his desk to quietly weep at his crushed romantic chances.  
  
Roy laughed. The world truly was his oyster, or should he say mackerel?  
  
The entire supply of official women's military uniform slacks in Central City had been annihilated.  
  
Phase one of _"Operation: Miniskirt"_ was now complete.

* * *

This piece actually has an epilogue/continuance. Maybe if everyone are good lil reviewers, I'll post it. 


	2. Once in a lifetime show

I know it's late. I'm a terrible lazy person. Still, this is the finale of Operation: M. (I couldn't think of a title)Enjoy.

Operation M: Part Two

by BattleJoy W

* * *

It is said that the road to hell was paved with good intentions.

It seemed certain that the universe believed this. There were so many examples he knew of. Such as an innocent pair of boys wanting their late mother back. Or a traumatized boy turned terrorist, trying to do the work he felt God compelled him to do. Or a simple alchemist officer that dared to dream about the position of Fuehrer...

"I have this morning's mail. Already checked, " Breda brusquely plunked down the already opened stack, with barely disguised anger. Normally, Roy would have a hissy fit at having his correspondences tampered with, due to the invasion of his professional privacy. But Hawkeye had insisted on some precautions for safety's sake. "They even brought in a dog to sniff 'em." Breda frowned and glared at Roy extra balefully at the last sentence, as if it was Roy's fault that he disliked dogs.

"Thank you. I see you separated all the hate mail into one section. How very thoughtful. You may go now." Roy said crisply as Breda saluted and turned to leave.

After his subordinate left, Roy allowed himself a sigh of defeat. All his carefully laid planes were in ruins. Had he really been too greedy to not have waited longer? Couldn't any of them see that he had a dream?

Maybe he really should have waited until he was Fuehrer. But when a report that said the female uniforms were on the west side of the storage depot, it was just too big of an opportunity to pass up.

It had taken months of planning. Well connected dinners and favors had led to some closed door meetings revising the dress code. A whole new set of uniforms was called for. There was nothing too dramatically different about them, except a slightly different cut and maybe a deeper blue, but they would give a new fresh look to the military. After all, it wouldn't do to have the military in worn rags, he had eloquently argued. Still there was some opposition from some old war-horses who never liked change, so Roy had been forced to convince his superiors to implement a strict 'no uniform substitution' policy.

When Fullmetal had burned down the factory and depository, it was supposed to happen a couple weeks before the newly ordered uniforms were issued. Roy was to sweep in like a hero, and quickly acquire the rights to a very convenient shipment of well-made yet very reasonably priced miniskirts out of Xing. It was all so perfect.

Maybe it was too perfect. How was he supposed to know that the MALE uniform pants were accidentally shipped to that side of the depository and not the female ones?

Roy frowned as he quickly sorted out the section of his mail was actually important and set it down on his desk. Standing up, Roy straightened his attire and walked out of his office with his facade of confidence properly in place.

Making a bee-line to Hawkeye's desk, he handed the stack of death threats to his second-in-command. "Could you shred these, please?" Hawkeye nodded and stood as Roy glanced around the main office.

The other members of his team were huddled around Fury, who seemed to be weeping into his hands, despite the other three men's efforts to consol him. Havoc happened to glance up and give Roy a look of undisguised loathing that was soon shared by Farman and Breda as they stared daggers at him. Hadn't they got his memo entitled, "_Don't think of them as mini-skirts. Think of them as MANLY kilts_"?

Hawkeye nodded as she calmly slipped a folder from her desk into the stack of mail Roy handed her. Seeing her commander's taken-aback expression, she walked up and supplied, "The only person that seems to be vocally appreciative of the new male officer uniforms is Major Armstrong. There seemed to have been a discussion about the Major's new squat machine."

Roy had an involuntary shudder as he imagined the poses that naturally followed such a conversation.

"I'll be in my office." He said as he returned to his office, wishing but already knowing that Hawkeye wouldn't let him go home early.

* * *

Winry Rockbell was getting impatient. 

The boys' visit back to Risenburg was too brief. They had enjoyed dealing with the simple joys that Winry nearly took for granted and the three of them had made so many plans. It was a bit mysterious why Ed had been called back to Central to give a report to some higher ups on the results of a mission he had done right before he left.

When Winry asked him he merely responded, "I don't want to talk about it. It was stupid. That's it."

Luckily, Winry had been able to tag along since Ed figured he still had some leave time and the three of them could get back to their vacation right after he discharged his irritating duty.

Not that Winry really minded too much the change in plans. Central, with its metropolitan charm, had far more things to do compared to the innocent streams and fields of Risenburg. Once Ed finished his shower and gave his report, they could probably go to see a play or something. Still, Winry impatiently waited as she wondered about that letter she had gotten earlier.

"Al," Ed shouted as he was about to walk out of the bathroom damp and only in a towel around his hips until he noticed Winry look up from the living room. With a blush, he retreated back to call to his brother from behind the door. "Al! Where are my clothes?"

"It's in that box. They sent over a set of the newly issued uniforms. There was a note saying you were required to wear them," Al carefully explained.

"I don't want to wear their dorky uniforms," Ed protested.

"But they sounded pretty upset about what happened at the factory last time. What if it's a formal inquiry?" Al worried. "Maybe you should wear the uniform just this once."

Ed grumbled as he went into the interior of bathroom to get dressed. He had done the best he could with all the random crap that was given him. If they were pissed off at him, better not thumb his nose at them by not wearing their stupid uniform.

Winry couldn't help but hear a bit of the conversation from the living-room of the small suite. "Wow. I've never seen Ed in a uniform before. I wonder why he never wears one. They are kind of dashing."

"Well, you know how Big Brother likes doing things different," Al turned to his friend. "But it's kind of good that he wears that uniform today. I sent out the rest of his clothes with the laundry service just a minute ago." It was so nice the laundry truck came early this week. They normally did pick ups on Thursdays in this area.

The two sat in companionable silence as they waited for Edward to emerge. Winry was still wondering why she had gotten that letter. She trusted 2nd Lieutenant Hawkeye but what kind of 'once in a lifetime show' was here at Central?

Then her thoughts were interrupted by the horrified shriek from the bathroom, "WHAT THE- I'M NOT WEARING THIS!!"

* * *

Hawkeye ever so discreetly watched her commander's retreat and the slight sway of the fabric showing off the lean length of his legs. Of all the variety of men in her office, Hawkeye had to note that the Colonel had the nicest calves of them all. 

With a clean about-face she walked out of the office and down the hallway to the copy room. Intent on her goal and her normal stern posture, no one would ever dream that they had mistakenly thought that they saw Hawkeye's eyes wander.

When she reached her destination, she glanced about to make sure no one noticed the file that she had slipped into the pile of death threats earlier. With a fond smile, 2nd Lieutenant Liza Hawkeye tossed the file into the shredder, thus destroying the last traces of evidence.

Needless to say, it was not only going to be a nice working environment for the next few days until everything got straightened out. Still, she had to admit that _'Operation: Men in Skirts'_ had been a resounding success.


End file.
